


Repeat after me

by thewallflower07



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Divergence - The Sign of Three, F/M, Insecure Sherlock Holmes, Inspired by FRIENDS, John makes the right decision, Johnlock-Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Mary is Not Nice, Minor Mary Morstan/John Watson, POV John Watson, Season 3-AU, The wedding, There is some stabbing involved, Vulnerable Sherlock, description of violence, mary is evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewallflower07/pseuds/thewallflower07
Summary: "I, John,""I, John,""Take you, Mary,""Take you Sherlock,"





	Repeat after me

**Author's Note:**

> I am rewatching FRIENDS right now and I thought the season 4 finale would fit perfectly into the Sherlock Universe. Basically, John makes up his mind with whom he wants to spend the rest of his life.

Their wedding room was decorated with white and yellow flowers, which was meant to cast a calming but cheery atmosphere over the waiting audience. John Watson was standing in front of the smiling and whispering guests. He clasped his hands nervously behind his back. It was his wedding day, and he should be absolutely thrilled to finally start a new life chapter with his supportive, nice and funny wife, Mary Morstan, soon Watson.

In reality, John was terrified. He stepped from one foot to the other, trying to calm his nerves. He lets his eyes roam over the waiting guests. Most of them were now seated. If only Sherlock was here now, but he mentioned that Mary wanted to talk to him before the ceremony. For a second John imagined that the two of them ran into the sunset, holding hands. He shook his head quickly to get that ridiculous thought out of it’s head. Mary loved him, after all, and Sherlock promised to never leave again without telling him first. Tell him first so John could follow him. The two of them against the rest of the world. Well, three now, really. Mary had inserted herself right into their dynamic, acting like their kindergarten teacher. It felt weird, her joining them on cases. To be honest John was quite annoyed at her for that, but Sherlock didn’t seem to mind. It still surprised John how well he and Mary were together. They became friends fast over the past months. After all, John always wished Sherlock would be nicer to his dates. Another reason to be thrilled today.

  
He searched through the guests. Mary didn’t have many family members, and most of them, his fiancée cheerfully admitted, did not like her. They were situated at the back of the room. After that came a few of his university mates (who also hated him, thanks Sherlock!) and army buddies. Bill winked at him, and John smiled tightly back. The rest were some random relatives on his side who he didn’t really care about.

  
The first row was reserved for Mrs. Hudson, who wore a dangerously large hat, Molly’s fiancé Tom, who looked bored, Molly in a cute yellow dress and Greg in a grey suit.  
Sherlock still hadn’t arrived. Damn that best man! He was supposed to calm John down and convince him he was doing the right thing. Not that John did any convincing, mind, but the detective’s smart remarks would help a lot right now.

  
Greg and Molly were hushing together right now, it looked suspicious for John. Tom seemed to think the same, he kept throwing angry glances at the two of them. John hoped Molly would not choose today to blow the engagement off, Mary wouldn’t want a distracting drama on her wedding day.  
He had not seen Mary today. She kissed goodbye to him yesterday and slept at Janine’s flat, her bridesmaid. It was rather traditional. Janine appeared to be nice, but John did not really trust her. All of Mary’s friend appeared not to be entirely nice to John, but they weren’t his friends, thank god. Well, as a married couple Mary will want him to attend all the boring couple meetings and diners with their friends, while acting like everything was good.  
One of the things he appreciated about Sherlock: He never had to act.

  
Well, apart from the most obvious thing. His feelings for the brilliant detective. He mourned him like a lost husband for two years, but that was all over now. He loved Mary now, and they were going to get married in approximately five minutes. It’s not like Sherlock would ever return his feelings. May as well live happily ever after with someone else. Mary was a good candidate for that option.

 

Molly was wiping a tear from her eyes now. She and Greg looked ready to attend a funeral, not a wedding. At least they were here, not like Mike and Harry who didn’t even bother to write him a card  
The door opened and all the guests turned around. It was Sherlock, and for a moment John was blown away by his appearance. The detective had tried to control his curls for the special occasion, but some locks were already fluffing around his forehead again. They both were matching suits. John looked like an ordinary bloke in it, and Sherlock had the aura of a bloody supermodel. The detective was walking down the aisle to meet him, and John couldn’t keep the big, happy smile away from his face. God, it was so unfair. Not that John minded gawping at his best friend here and then.  
  
At least, now that Sherlock had arrived, everything was going to be perfect.  
Except Sherlock’s face was pale as a sheet, and he looked absolutely miserable. Quite shaken, in fact. Did something happen between him and Mary? Before John had the opportunity to ask his best friend, who now stood next to him, the organ began playing the traditional Wedding March.  
Right. John corrected his stance and lifted his chin. Into battle.  
  
The heavy door opened a second time and Mary appeared. The guests rose to their feet to watch the procession.  
She wore a white, simple dress without a trail and a simple veil. Her flower bouquet was clasped in front of her. Behind her walked Janine and another bridesmaid in lilac dresses. John had forgotten her name, he only remembered her annoyingly loud giggles.  
  
Oh god, he had not even uttered the vows, and he was already terrible at this! Mary really deserved better, so get it together Watson! John imagined Major James Sholto straightening his back. He forced himself to smile at his soon-to-be wife, but simultaneously moved a bit more into Sherlock’s direction, until he could sense his body heat. Was the detective nervous?  
  
Mary and John now faced each other at the altar, sandwiched between Sherlock and the bridesmaids.  
He drowned the priests' bible verses out. Sherlock certainly choose an appropriate on, but John could never get himself to listen the words. He didn’t feel like God loved him. First, he got shot, and then he met Sherlock, which was the best thing that ever happened to him, and then Sherlock jumped off that roof and disappeared for two years (they still had to talk about that), which drove John into total depression, until Mary showed up and slowly dragged him back to the light. He was thankful for her, yet part of him wished it wouldn’t have been necessary.  
That’s all over now, he reminded himself. Time to look into the future, a future with this great, good-looking nurse. Time to be a good husband for Mary.  
The priest was talking now, and John tuned back in.

“Love is the gift, and love is the giver,  
love is the gold that  
makes the day shine;  
love forgets self to care for the other,  
love changes life from water to wine.“  
  
This was nice, he supposed. As far as weddings went. Not that he wanted to be involved in the planning process. Mary made most of the choices, while Sherlock brought dozens of options on the table for every little thing. John had always been glad when Mary left them alone.   
  
Alone.  
  
The stag night was definitely something else. He thought he could go through with it, in his drunken state. Confess his love for the detective while groping his knee. Then their client busted in, and the moment was gone. Probably better that way.  
  
He loved Mary. Not as much as Sherlock, never that, never the burning, all consuming, endless love, but still. It should be enough, it must be enough.  
  
“If anyone present believes that there is any reason in law why the couple should not marry, please speak out now or forever hold your silence.“  
  
John hold his breath for a moment. He wished he could turn around to Sherlock, see his reaction. His hands were sweaty in Mary’s. She let out a small awkward giggle, and some guests joined in. No one ever expected someone actually objecting.  
  
“We will now begin with the vows. Mary, please repeat after me. I, Mary.“

 

“I, Mary.“

  
“Take you, John,“

  
“Take you, John,“

  
“To be my husband,“

  
“To be my husband,“

  
“To have and to hold, from this day forward,“

  
“To have and to hold, from this day forward,“

  
Mary smiled at him under the veil. John knew he could not disappoint her.

  
“For better, for worse, for richer, for poor,“

  
“For better, for worse, for richer, for poor,“

  
John smiled back at her. He could do this.

  
“In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,“

  
He could hear Mrs. Hudson cry behind him. Christ, her too? It wasn't that moving. It's just a bloody wedding.

  
“In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,“

  
“Till death do us apart,“

  
“Till death do us apart,“

  
Mary sounded so optimistic and sincere. Why was he not more like her? John forced himself to breathe in and out at the same time as Sherlock. It calmed him down.

  
“According to God’s holy law,“

  
“According to God’s holy law,“

  
“In the presence of God I make this vow.“

  
“In the presence of God I make this vow.“

 

The priest nodded satisfied. His head shone in the golden sun coming through the window. What a beautiful day for a wedding.  


  
“John, please repeat after me. I, John,“   


  
“I, John,“   


  
His voice sounded steady. Good.  


  
“Take you, Mary,“   


  
“Take you, Sherlock,“   


  
His facial expression slipped. Mary ripped her veil from her face. She was enraged, her face rapidly turning bright red. John heard Greg laugh awkwardly, and Mrs Hudson cheered inappropriately loud. The rest of the guests were in utter turmoil. Whispering about this scandalous turn of event.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn’t how Sherlock deserved to hear this, with a room full of dozen sightseers, and a steaming bride. This wasn't what Mary deserved either. What has he done?  
John tried to look at the detective, tried to tell him — what exactly? — but Mary grabbed his shoulders and held him still. He only caught a glimpse of him, eyes red and shining with tears. Were they tears of despair, anger, joy?

  
  
“Shall I continue?“, the priest asked nervously. The room quieted down again somewhat.  


  
“Yes, you will!“ , snarled Mary. There were practically firefights coming out of her blared nose. “I am gonna have a talk with my dear husband later.“   


  
“I think it’s best if we start from the beginning. John, please, repeat, after me! I, John,“   


  
John couldn’t. He was staring at the angry woman he was about to marry, and he just couldn’t do it. Not be a good husband for Mary. He couldn’t do the white house in the suburbs and the white-picket fence and the small garden and 1.4 children and an ordinary job and dinner evening with people and chatting and baking bread and going to parent-teacher conferences and driving a car and only solving cases on weekends and only seeing Sherlock Holmes sporadically.  
He always thought he would choose the life his parents envisioned for him, the life society expected of him, the life he thought he wanted.

  
But that was not true.

  
John wanted calm evenings with tea, rubbish telly and a comfortable chair, he wanted eye balls next to his bacon and a head in his microwave, he wanted long nights of case work, detective files everywhere, chasing criminals through London, shooting his gun, running around in handcuffs, writing about their adventures in his blog, late take-out food, violin sounds in the early morning, rapid fired deductions from the most brilliant madman alive.

  
He wanted Sherlock, and he just spectacularly made all of that known. He needed to salvage what was left.  
John let go of Mary’s hands and turned around to face Sherlock. If the man had been pale, now he was ghost-like. The detective was shaking all over, his perfect lips formed into a shocked round form.  


 

“Sherlock,“ , John whispered, “I am so sorry that it has come to this. But it’s time to tell you the truth.“  


 

The whole room was holding its breath. John heard Mary gnarling her teeth.  


 

“I love you.“  


 

Sherlock took a step back as if John had shoved him. One of his ridiculously large hands tugged violently at his curls, until John closed the gap between them and took his hands.

 

“I loved you since that first evening at Baker Street. I should have told you then, or at the pool, when we were prepared to die for each other. I was deathly jealous of Irene Adler and everyone else who came close to you. Youre jump from that roof destroyed me, and I mourned you like a lover.“  


  
The room was gasping all through his little speech. Mrs. Hudson was crying in earnest now.  


  
“You coming back to my life was like the sun breaking through the rainy clouds. You are my life, you fulfil it and make it so much better. I cannot live without you, and I am sorry that it has come down to this, but I love you so much.“   


  
Sherlock still struggled with his words. He was staring at his shoes now, could not face John. It reminded John of the time he asked him to be best man. The stakes were so much higher now.  


  
“If you don’t, please tell me. I understand it, I promise. Your friendship means more to me than anything else. I never wanted to destroy it, believe me.“, John pleaded.  


  
Finally, something happened. Except it wasn’t the thing John wished would happen.  


  
Mary was laughing hysterically, pointing at the shaking detective: “Oh, John, you are so naive!“, she threw her head back, “Do you really believe that this thing, this freak, can love. Can show emotions even? Look at him, he is like a stone!“ Her cruel voice cut through John like a knife. Mrs. Hudson tried to throw her handbag at the bride, but Molly stopped her, looking frustrated herself. Greg was standing and was prepared to defend Sherlock’s honour.  


  
“I think it’s best if we all-.“ , started the priest, but Mary interrupted him with a rude hand gesture. She addressed Sherlock directly now.  


  
“Did you not listen to what I told you earlier?“, she hissed. “Your obvious pining is laughable. You’re the monster who killed himself in front of him, and yet you call what you feel ‚love‘. Love!“ Mary came closer to them. The priest watched the spectacle helplessly.  


  
“You can’t love, Sherlock! You are not capable of that. You endanger everyone around you. John nearly got killed so many times because of your reckless mistakes. John deserves better than you, and one day he will understand that and leave you again, and where will you end up?“   


  
“Stop talking, Mary!“, shouted John angrily. She had every right to be upset with him. Manipulating Sherlock and emotionally abusing him was not something he would allow to continue.  


  
“John is right, Mary.“, reasoned Molly. “How about we end this wedding now and just go home?“   


  
“Home? You mean him going back to Baker Street?“, screamed Mary, gesticulating to John and Sherlock. “No way. I won’t let that happen!“   


  
“John,“ whispered Sherlock in a very small voice. It went quite as a tomb in the room. John regarded him nervously, licking his lips.  


  
“Mary is right.“, the detective said. Mary exclaimed something in a triumphant voice, while Molly groaned.

 

“She is right with everything she said. I’m a dangerous junkie who only brought more pain into your life. You deserve better.“  


  
“No, Sherlock“, John shook his hand. “This is not about what you or Mary think I want or deserve, it’s about my life.“ He took a deep breath. “Please answer me honestly now. Do you love me?“   


  
Sherlock begged him with his eyes, but John would not back down until he received a real answer. The detective opened is mouth, then closed it again. Open, close. John waited patiently.  


  
“I…“ Sherlock paused. John reached out and put a warm hand against his cheek.  


  
Sherlock finally met his gaze: “Of course, I love you.“   


  
They smiled at each other and John was just about to dip the detective down to press his lips on him, when Mary exploded.  


  
She let out a very loud scream and surged forward. Her hand flew into her dress, grabbing for something. John spied something metallic, and he jumped in front of Sherlock, but that shiny something was already flying through the air. John was too late to stop it, and he could only watch helplessly when the small knife buried itself into Sherlock’s ribs.  


  
The sound that came out of John’s mouth was inhuman. Sherlock was standing impossibly still, one hand slowly reaching for the knife in his body. He looked helplessly at John. The doctor managed to catch his falling body and brought him gently down to the floor. He inspected the bleeding wound immediately.  
Fortunately, the knife shouldn’t have hit any of the organs. He ripped his suit jacket into smaller parts and started to wrap them around the wound. Sherlock was panting, his otherwise smooth face crunched in pain.  


“It’s okay, you are going to be okay.“, he comforted him, hands running down his body, cupping his face.  


  
"John," , Sherlock gasped and screwed his eyes shut, “this is not how I envisioned this day to be.“   


  
John got up for a moment and furiously faced Mary, who struggled against Greg's iron grip.   


  
"If you had killed him, you would have not left this room alive!", he told her in his calm voice, that he knew sounded more terrifying than anyone's screaming ever would. John was deathly serious.   


  
Greg was forcing Mary to the ground, fingers searching for handcuffs he didn’t have on him. Mrs Hudson found a pair in her giant handbag, which John decided to ignore. Molly was standing between the groups, eyes shining with emotion.  


 

“Ambulance is on its way, John. Do you need help with him?“  


 

“We’re good, but thank you, Molly.“ Right now he couldn’t bear imagine any foreign hands on Sherlock’s body. He covered the detective’s body with his own, mindful of the dozens of eyes on them. Sherlock didn’t need the extra stress. John wrapped his arms carefully around Sherlock’s upper body and held on him.  


 

“Hurts, John.“ Sherlock whimpered in his ear. John started rubbing his back: “I know Sherlock. The medics will give you pain killers immediately, I promise. Just breathe, okay?“  


 

“So you’re choosing me, hmm?“  


 

John choked back a tear. “Yes, of course I am choosing you. Always you.“  


 

“This is definitely not how I thought this day would be.“, Sherlock said quietly. John pressed his lips to the detectives' forehead.  


 

“How did you expect this day to be?“, he asked, to distract him from the pain.

  
  
“I imagined it to be much worse.“, Sherlock admitted. John’s heart broke a little.  


 

“Thank god you got stabbed, then.“  


 

“Thank god you said my name instead of hers.“  


 

“People are already talking.“  


 

“People do little else.“  


 

John heard the sound of the ambulance outside.  


 

“Before they put me on to that stretcher and break us apart, can you kiss me?“ Sherlock looked at him with pain-hazed puppy eyes. John happily indulged him.

"I will."

**Author's Note:**

> Please give kudos or write a comment if you liked it.


End file.
